Doctor Who: The Good the Bad and the Alien / System Wipe Read online

  Oli Smith

  The Doctor finds himself trapped in the

  virtual world of Parallife. As he tries to save

  the inhabitants from being destroyed by a deadly

  virus, Amy and Rory must fight to keep the

  Doctor's body in the real world safe from the

  mysterious entity known as Legacy . . .

  For Emma, who likes this one best

  Also available:

  Death Riders by Justin Richards

  Heart of Stone by Trevor Baxendale

  Coming soon:

  Rain of Terror by Mike Tucker

  Extra Time by Richard Dungworth

  The Underwater War by Richard Dinnick

  Terminal of Despair by Steve Lyons

  Oli Smith

  Cover illustrated by Paul Campbell

  BBC Children's Books

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London, WC2R ORL, England

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York 10014, USA Penguin Books (Australia) Ltd, 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (A division of Pearson Australia Group PTY Ltd) Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore

  0632, New Zealand (A division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd)

  Canada, India, South Africa

  Published by BBC Children's Books, 2011

  Text and design © Children's Character Books

  The Good, the Bad and the Alien written by Colin Brake

  System Wipe written by Oli Smith

  2

  BBC logo © BBC 1996. Doctor Who logo © BBC 2009. TARDIS image © BBC 1963.

  Licensed by BBC Worldwide Limited

  BBC, DOCTOR WHO (word marks, logos and devices), TARDIS, DALEKS, CYBERMAN and K-9 (word marks and devices) are trade marks of the British Broadcasting Corporation and are used under licence.

  ISBN-978-14059-0-758-3

  Printed in Great Britain by Clays Ltd, St Ives pic

  Prologue-Escape 7

  13. The Guild 104

  1. World's End 11

  14. The Architect 109

  2. Link-Up 18

  15. Cheat 113

  3. Tutorial 28

  16. A Message 123

  4. Level Zero 39

  17. A Plan 134

  5. A New Arrival 43

  18. Battleground 142

  6. Demolition 50

  19. The Sword and the Screwdriver..l47

  7. The Forest 60

  20. Breakthrough 155

  8. Defrag 71

  21. Legacy 160

  9. The Other Side 80

  22. Mistaken Identity 167

  10. Safety 84

  23. The Virtual War 173

  11. The Bunker 89

  24. Salvation 182

  12. New Places 99

  Epilogue-TheTower. 192

  The city was virtual.

  But that doesn't mean it wasn't real.

  Dubstep Towers hung in a neon-pink sky

  above the wireframe city below. The crowds

  of people hurrying through the outlined

  streets looked like pixels to Blondie - squares

  of colour, the building blocks of her world.

  She stood at the window of her penthouse

  apartment on floor 73, placed a hand against

  the glass and returned her gaze to the horizon.

  Beyond the curving buildings and past the

  cubic city blocks, the darkness was coming. It

  was a sphere of pure black that extended both

  above and below the level of the ground and

  as it grew in size, its radius began to skim the

  yellow-lit suburbs.

  The suburbs shattered. The roads and

  houses dissolved into a shower of computer

  code - carefully balanced strings of numbers

  and equations that held the world together.

  The glowing yellow pieces rose and flowed

  away from the advancing sphere, transforming

  into a tidal wave that sprayed the edges of

  the deep blue inner city. The yellow pixels

  mixed with the blue fragments, forming cool,

  green puddles on the streets before they were

  gathered up into the wave once more.

  Blondie drew the blinds, unable to watch,

  and stepped over to the large four-poster bed

  that stood in the centre of the white-tiled

  room. Kneeling down, she pulled a large black

  trunk from beneath the bed and pressed her

  hand against the top. The cool dark material

  dissolved and Blondie smiled as the contents

  of the trunk reminded her of the adventures

  of her younger days.

  Placed carefully amongst the protective

  folds of a crimson cloth was a sword. The

  ivory handle was sculpted to fit her palm

  and the perfectly balanced blade glowed with

  white electricity that matched Blondie's hair.

  She lifted it out of the trunk and flourished

  it with skill before slotting it neatly into the

  strap on her back. She pulled on a pair of blue

  boots that matched her blouse and took one

  last look at the flat that had been her home for

  Boss-knows how long. Behind the blinds, the

  soft patter of pixels began to sound against

  the glass — the wave was almost upon her.

  Blondie opened the front door to the

  penthouse and looked down at the 200 metre

  drop below before stepping over the threshold.

  Her body twisted ninety degrees in the air, and

  the smooth wall of Dubstep Towers became

  the floor, as she began to walk down towards

  the street below. The building shuddered as

  the wave of destruction broke against the

  opposite side and Blondie began to run.

  She couldn't fight the darkness on her own.

  She needed help.

  'It's the end of the world. Again,' said the

  Doctor.

  'Again?' Rory made a face.

  'When?' asked Amy. 'The buildings look

  like the kinda stuff you'd see in 2010.'

  'Ha.' The Doctor laughed. 'That's the

  trouble with you born-in-the-twentieth-

  century types — you think it's only a matter

  of decades before your council estates and

  tower blocks are replaced with shiny domes

  and monorails and flying cars. But it's not.

  Buildings like this are renovated and repaired,

  they'll last for centuries.'

  'Okay, so when is it?' Amy repeated.

  'It's 2222 AD,' the Doctor answered. 'Like

  I said, end of the world.' He spread his arms

  and grinned as the group stopped to take in

  their surroundings.

  All around them, the ruins of Chicago

  towered above their heads. Huge, broken

  skeletons of skyscrapers standing half-

  submerged amongst the vast folds of sand

  dunes. The dunes glowed white in the sunlight

  and faded to a cool grey in the giant shadows

  between the buildings. Beyond that, the desert

  stretched for miles, rolling hills of dust that rose

  and fell like a frozen sea towards the horizon.

  'What happened?' Rory asked.
>
  The Doctor flicked open his sonic

  screwdriver and pointed it towards the sky

  before examining the handle. He shrugged

  'Dunno.'

  ''"Dunno"?' Rory repeated. 'What do you

  mean, 'dunno'? It's the end of the world!

  Our whole world has been destroyed, and that

  didn't stick in your memory?'

  The Doctor sighed. 'I can't keep track of

  everything. Earth gets blasted half a dozen

  times at least in its lifetime. Count yourself

  lucky,' he started jumping on the spot, 'at least

  the planet's still here this time.'

  Amy reached out and closed her husband's

  open mouth. She turned to the Doctor, 'Could

  it be solar flares?' she asked. 'It's about the

  right era, isn't it?'

  'Possibly.' The Doctor stuffed the sonic

  screwdriver back into his jacket pocket. 'The

  a'I'mosphere's taken a beating, that's for sure.'

  He fished out a small white plastic bottle.

  'Here, put this on — for protection.'

  Rory inspected the bottle gingerly. What is

  it? Space cream?'

  'Sunscreen. Your pasty complexions aren't

  going to last long without it.'

  Amy snatched the bottle out of Rory's

  hand and started smearing it on immediately.

  'And you tell me this now?! I've been out here

  nearly half an hour!'

  'What about you?' Rory asked the Doctor.

  The Doctor grinned and slipped on a pair

  of sunglasses. 'Sorted.'

  It wasn't long before the relentless heat drove

  the group's exploration indoors. They blinked

  to adjust their eyes in the stifling shadows

  of one of the more intact skyscrapers. The

  Doctor's boots left prints in the dust as he

  stepped onto the green-tiled floor of a large,

  splintered entrance chamber.

  'It's a block of flats.' Amy pointed behind

  a semi-circular reception desk to where a wide

  grid of mailboxes was screwed into the wall.

  'In downtown, no less. Very posh.' The

  Doctor removed his shades and wiped them

  absent-mindedly on his shirtsleeves. Rory tried

  in vain to blow away the dust that had stuck to

  the suncream on his arm. His spluttering was

  loud in the heavy silence and Amy shot Rory a

  look as the Doctor pushed past her on his way

  towards the janitor's closet.

  He yanked open the wooden door and

  stepped inside. A second later, the green bulb

  of the sonic screwdriver cast an eerie glow

  over the contents of the tiny closet.

  'What are you looking for?' Amy asked.

  'A power source.' The Doctor's voice was

  muffled in the gloom. 'Rory, be a good fella

  and thump that desk for me, would you?'

  Rory raised his eyebrows but did as he was

  told. Gathering his shirt-cuff into his palm, he

  wiped a sleeve across the surface of the desk

  before poking it with a finger.

  'I said thump, not poke.'

  Rory patted the desk again.

  'Oh, let me do it.' Amy strode forward

  and brought a fist down hard on the glossy

  surface. The desk sprang into life. With a small

  chime it began to display large rectangles of

  data — resident's details, room numbers, virtual

  post-it notes, all arranging themselves around

  Amy's hand.

  'It's a table-computer!' Rory exclaimed.

  The Doctor emerged from the closet,

  slapping the sonic screwdriver closed in his

  palm. 'It's a Desktop,' he said with a grin.

  Pushing between the pair he rubbed his thumbs

  over his fists and examined the scrolling read-

  outs before him. Then he scratched at his nose

  as his other hand began jabbing at the screen

  in a dizzying flurry of movements. The read-

  outs changed; colours and text flashing across

  the faces of Amy and Rory as if they were lit

  by a disco ball.

  'What are you looking for?' Rory asked.

  'The bills,' the Doctor replied. 'Somewhere

  in this building, something is still switched on.

  I picked up the power reading when we were

  outside but it's too faint for me to pinpoint

  with the sonic. I reckon whichever apartment it

  is must have racked up a pretty hefty electricity

  bill over the centuries. Hopefully that should

  tell us where the reading's coming from.'

  'Is that why we came here?' Rory asked.

  'It is now.'

  The Desktop made one final chime and

  the Doctor raised his hand from the surface

  screen. 'Floor 48, apartment 23B.'

  Amy eyed the grand main staircase, and

  pointed a finger. 'Are you expecting me to

  climb forty-eight times those?' she asked.

  The Doctor shrugged. 'If you want. I was

  planning on taking the lift.'

  'If it's the end of the world, how come the

  lifts still work?' Rory asked, as the Doctor

  checked his watch. The blue numbers that

  seemed to be projected across the top of the

  door were rising painfully slowly. So was the

  temperature inside the cramped metal lift.

  'It's one of the basic rules of the universe,

  isn't it?' Amy threw him a wink. 'Things only

  work when you don't need them anymore.'

  Rory nodded wisely. 'Like when our train

  broke down on the way to that concert.'

  'You mean that gig,' said Amy.

  'Gig, concert, what's the difference? It's

  still people playing music in front of other,

  slightly less sweaty people.'

  'Gig sounds cooler.'

  'It doesn't matter how cool it sounds.

  They're still sweaty.'

  Amy sighed.

  The Doctor stroked his bow tie. 'I'm sweaty

  and cool,' he declared.

  'Urgh.'

  'Aaaand we're here.' The Doctor announced,

  hopping out and into a hallway. Once it must

  have been decorated in a deep shade of red,

  but now the paintwork had faded to a rusty

  brown. 'Thank heavens for that. Remind me

  never to listen to you two talk about normal

  stuff again. Boooring!'

  Sheepishly, the pair followed him down

  the corridor as the Doctor checked off the

  room numbers with a wag of his finger. Amy

  felt a weird sensation through her shoes and

  looked down to see the carpet crumbling away

  beneath her weight. Her feet left red footprints

  in the powder-snow of the worn out carpet.

  'It's spooky,' she said. 'When you go to

  rundown places back home you expect them

  to be full of bugs and rats and mice and spiders

  and . . . more bugs,' she finished. 'But there's

  nothing here. Not a single living soul in the

  whole wide world.'

  'Peaceful, isn't it?' the Doctor called over his

  shoulder cheerfully. 'Ah ha! 23B!' He stopped in

  front of a blank wooden door whose number

  he had deduced by examining the numbers of

  the doors either side. Grabbing the handle, he

  barged through.

  And nearly fell to his death.

  Amy
grabbed him just in time. She shielded

  her eyes against the sudden shaft of sunlight

  and hauled him back over the threshold.

  He dropped onto the floor of the hallway with

  a thump.

  The Doctor sat up immediately and stared

  in confusion at his legs as they dangled over

  the broken edges of the floorboards. He

  looked down at the steep drop below.

  The entire eastern side of the building had

  been torn away by a force that must have been

  so powerful it sent shivers down Amy's spine.

  Her eyes adjusted to the light and she peered

  over the edge. The concrete skeleton of the

  building had crumbled to reveal a series of

  sharp metal supports nearly twenty storeys

  down. They were positioned exactly where

  the Doctor would have landed. Her stomach

  turned at the thought.

  'But, I don't understand!' the Doctor finally

  found his voice. Where's 23B?'

  'Er, here?' came a small cough from behind

  them.

  Rory was standing on the opposite side of

  the hallway. He pointed at the number on the

  door next to him. 23B.

  The Doctor cleared his throat. 'Ah, right,

  thanks.' He jumped quickly to his feet and began

  patting his trousers down enthusiastically. 'I

  must have confused 'apartment 23B' with

  'creaky door of deathly death'. Ah well, no

  harm done.' He straightened up and placed a

  hand on Amy's shoulder.

  'Thanks.' he mouthed, and for a second

  Amy thought she saw a flicker of fear being

  blinked away behind his deep green eyes. Then

  it passed, and the blustering madman she

  knew so well returned once more. This time

  when the Doctor grabbed the door handle, he

  opened it considerably more slowly.

  The door swung gently open to reveal a

  surprisingly small apartment considering the

  faded luxury of the hallway. Inside was a basic

  desk and chair. They were tucked neatly in one

  corner against a small, frosted window. To

  the right, behind a pokey bathroom, was an

  unmade bed that looked like it would crumble

  to ash if anyone so much as breathed on it.

  Rory looked disappointed. 'I thought this

  place was meant to be posh?'

  'It's the location you pay for, not the size.'

  It only took the Doctor a couple of steps

  to reach the desk. He ran a finger across

  the surface, tracing a zigzag in the dust and

  a small blue light appeared in the centre of

  the Desktop. With a smooth whirr, a strange